


Pour Some More

by musicgirl373



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:52:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicgirl373/pseuds/musicgirl373
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something that I wrote after watching Bleeding Through. This is going to be a part of a Mafia AU that I'm working on but because I haven't posted in a while, I wanted to put this little sneak peek up. Basically, Killian interrupts a date that Emma is having with Graham. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pour Some More

Killian leaned on the counter with a glass of Bacardi after Emma left for her date. She had looked gorgeous in that tight black dress, relatively simple makeup and her long blonde tresses cascading down her back. _But then, she always looks lovely._ He took a sip of rum, the alcohol burning his way down his throat like coals.

He remembered their first date, how nervous she said she was, even though it couldn’t possibly have matched how nervous _he_ had been. He had wanted it to be perfect, had wanted to give her only the best. Perfection; that’s what she deserved. He was nowhere near that. He doubted he was even facing that direction. He swirled the rum around. Downed the rest of it all in one gulp. Poured himself another glass.  

This man though. The one she was going to see. He was perfect, or closer to perfect than Killian would ever be. He had checked him out (he could never be too careful, especially when Emma was involved): had been sheriff in a small town in Maine for a few years before coming to New York to work for the FBI with Emma. He had a spotless record, paid all his bills on time, hell he had even been given an award for saving a small child from a burning building. No wonder Emma liked him, dated him, was hung up on him. He took another drink. Poured himself more.

He wanted her to have that. Half the glass gone.

She deserved a perfect life. One that didn’t involve him. He drank the rest.

Poured himself another.

***

 

Emma sat idly at the table, waiting for Graham to return from an important phone call. She swirled her finger over the rim of her water glass, listening as it made a faint ringing. Graham had taken her to a swanky Manhattan restaurant, one with ivy covered walls and string lights, lending to a rustic and romantic feel. She checked her watch. Not even 8 pm yet.

She liked Graham, she did, but she really just wanted for this to be over with. The conversation so far had been stilted at best, downright awkward at worst. For some reason, she couldn’t find a way to go beyond their normal workplace banter, but even now, the jokes weren’t as funny, the flirting not as exciting.

Graham came back a few minutes later, sitting down and immediately picking up his menu. When she had met him in front of the restaurant, she had almost regretted ending things. He looked amazing, impeccably dressed in a midnight blue button down with a waistcoat over it, the sleeves rolled up, dark pants and boots. His eyes had warmed as soon as he saw her. He would make a lucky woman very happy one day, she just knew it.

“Sorry about that, took longer than I expected, so you are you ready to order?” he said after a quick glance at the menu. She nodded and he raised his hand slightly to catch the waiter’s attention. They ordered and the awkward silence commenced.

“So. I guess we have a lot to talk about, don’t we?” Graham said. She gave him a small, sad smile. Neither of them really knew where to start though. It wasn’t that he was a bad person, far from it. And she knew bad, had been with it before, had been burned by it. She just didn’t know if she wanted to go through something like that again. She tried to figure out a way to put those feelings into words, but unfortunately, she just couldn’t do it.

“Swan! Swan, over here, Swan!!!” She looked away to see Killian standing on the other side of the short wrought iron fence, arms in the air. Drunk off his ass. She had only ever seen him full on drunk a few times. It definitely wasn’t that he didn’t drink; he could hold his alcohol like no one she had ever known. But on the rare occasion when he did push himself over the edge, it wasn’t pretty. He was a clumsy drunk, to say the least, and the alcohol had a tendency to destroy the filter between his brain and his mouth.

She started, just as he was attempting to get over the fence, falling on his shoulder in the process. The entire restaurant was aware of the situation now, had gone almost completely silent save for a few whispers and snickers here and there. A few were looking at her, the rest looking at him as he pulled himself up using the edge of another couple’s table, almost pulling off the table cloth with all their food and drinks as he did so. He tried to right it a bit, only to have his hands smacked off by the woman who looked at him in disgust. He not so quietly said he was sorry, before moving on and stumbling his way towards them. He knocked into some tables and a few drinks spilled, but he finally made it to the table without hurting himself too bad. He looked up at the sky.

“Goodness Swan,” it had been so long since he had called her that, “I may be drunk, but restaurants normally have roofs, don’t they? Look at all those dots!” He raised a hand, pointer finger out and moved his arm as though he was poking the sky, and counted the stars. A short Indian woman in a blouse and pencil skirt, the manager she presumed, came up to him, putting a hand on his arm and disrupting his counting.

“Is there a problem here, sir?” she said in a stern voice, looking like she was barely keeping herself from grabbing a china plate and smashing it over his head.

Killian opened his mouth, most likely to say something stupid, when Emma piped in, “No we’re fine, Killian’s joining us a bit late.”

She glanced at Graham, who was looking at Killian, before his confused gaze returned to hers. She gave him a pleading look, one that she hoped would communicate that she would explain later. He gave a small nod, before turning to address the manager.

“Yes, _Killian’s_ just late. In fact, _Killian_ , go ahead and pull up a chair,” he said, his words curt and if Emma wasn’t mistaken, slightly jealous. The manager eyed them for another moment, nodded and gave them a small smile before leaving the table. Killian, for his part didn’t move, before Emma gave him a nod to do what he was told. Killian smirked, going over to the small family’s table next to them, and stepping right up behind the father’s chair, placed his hands on it and was about to pull, before Emma shouted “NO, NOT THAT ONE. SOMEONE IS SITTING THERE.”

The family was alarmed, the mother looking like she wanted to slap him silly and the father going beet red with embarrassed rage. Graham stood up to talk to them and diffuse the situation as the father shouted that he was going to call the police. Emma got up, pulled Killian back to her table, and he was laughing. Hard. In any other situation, she would have savored that laughter after not having heard it for so long. But not now. The manager saw the situation and was heading back to their table, looking even more pissed off than before, if that was even possible. A couple of big waiters flanked her, though it didn’t really look like she would have needed them had anything gotten too physical. When they arrived, she was clearly hanging on by a thread.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask you all to leave,” she said tersely.

“Of course, sorry for the disruption,” Emma said back, knowing that she was never going to be able to return to this restaurant again. They were lucky that she wasn’t threatening to call the police on them. Killian was still shaking with residual giggles, Graham had returned from his negotiations with the still huffing father and Emma was grabbing her coat, and the manager and waiters left them. Graham took some money out of his wallet and flicked it onto the table as a kind of peace offering. The woman cast one last glare at Killian before consoling the father further.

Emma grabbed Killian’s hand and dragged him from the restaurant, Graham following closely behind them. People stared, some in disgust, others in disappointment that their entertainment for the night was leaving. They got through the doors and walking down the sidewalk back to Emma and Killian’s apartment complex.

“Swannn, you look so prettyyy,” Killian slurred, then he leaned over and in her ear, he stage-whispered “You look wayyy too good for a guy like him,” he pointed at Graham, who was now flanking Killian on his other side. He looked like he just wanted the night to be over already. Emma sent him another apologetic look, which seemed to help just a little bit.

“Yep,” Killian was almost shouting at this point, “too pretty for him and wayyy too good for me. You know what this means, Swan, don’t you? It means--” he didn’t get to finish his sentence before he stumbled over his own feet on the sidewalk, going down to the ground and almost bringing Emma with him. Graham caught him though and helped to lay him down more gently. Killian’s eyes were closed. Graham waved his hand in front of him and checked his pulse.

“Yep, he’s passed out. He’s gonna be out for a while. Here, help me get him up.” He grabbed him under one armpit, Emma the other and they each slung one arm over their shoulders before walking again.

“My apartment’s not to far from here, we won’t have to do this for too long,” Emma said. However, it wasn’t the walk home that proved to be the challenge. It was getting him up the stairs and into the apartment that was the hard part. The stairs leading up to their floor were narrow and not lit well, and they had to go single file, trying to sync their steps in time so they all wouldn’t trip. They almost came tumbling down the steps multiple times on the way. The whole time, Killian stayed out. They finally reached Killian’s apartment. Emma got her key out from her purse while Graham supported Killian using the wall by the door, giving Emma another questioning look as to why she had a key to his apartment. She promised him that it would be part of the big explanation she had planned for later. Graham just gave her a tired smile.

They got in, dragged Killian to his bedroom and deposited him on his sheets, shoes still on, butt in the air, face squished on the mattress. They shut the door as quietly as they could and headed out into the hallway to finally have their talk.

 

 


End file.
